


A Force Of Habit

by Maribor_Petrichor



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: M/M, Smarvill - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-12 15:45:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/813267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maribor_Petrichor/pseuds/Maribor_Petrichor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short Smarvill one off that has the boys meeting up in New York when their schedules permit. Terrible summary, I realize. Written as a birthday present for Rach. Hope she likes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Force Of Habit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MattSmithIsSexy](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=MattSmithIsSexy).



Arthur reached across the body of the man sleeping soundly next to him and grabbed his mobile from the nearby nightstand. It was late but he always gave it one last check before settling down for the evening. He read a few text messages and quickly responded to a handful of the more immediate ones. He’d made plans to meet with a few mates this evening but had ended up being a no show. There were a handful of “What the hell happened to you’s?” which he answered with the appropriate amount of apologies mixed with vagaries. He didn’t want to tell them where he’d been. Not because he was embarrassed or even because it was that much of a secret. But more because he wanted to keep it to himself. It was somehow nicer that way, sweeter. It was always sweeter when it was just the two of them.

He’d only recently returned to Twitter, unable to deny the allure any longer. A cursory scan of his @’s revealed a sudden influx of chatter. More than usual. Clicking on a link that nearly all the tweets included, he saw a slightly grainy Instagram photo of his reunion with Matt from earlier in the day. They were embracing and smiling at each other, their bodies close, perhaps suspiciously close, intimately close if anyone bothered to take notice. Of course the fans noted it, but they were good at reading subtext into everything so that hardly counted. Arthur chuckled to himself to think that this time Their Smarvill radar was spot on. 

It looked spontaneous. But then again it was meant to. 

A chance meeting on the street. 

Matt Smith and Arthur Darvill together again!

Of course in reality they’d been texting each other like mad for at least an hour before.

They both pulled one another in for hug and then drew back to just make eye contact...and smile. He’d missed that smile. He’d missed those eyes and that laugh, the cheeky flirting, the busy hands that were never quite as in check or as careful as they should be. That overwhelming desire to kiss him flared up, and the frustration of being this close yet this far away from his lips instantly started to drive him to distraction. Just for a second he’d nearly done it. Just put his hand on the back of his neck and yanked those lips to his. 

Force of habit.

Of course Matt noticed. Matt noticed everything and he quirked an amused smile that simply said, “I know.”

“Smug bastard.” Arthur muttered under his breath and the smile turned into a laugh. They were both running late and parted soon after. Matt had dinner planned with Steven and Arthur had a show to do. Plans for afterward were long ago set. He’d had an extra key to his flat overnight shipped to Matt as soon as he’d arrived in Detroit along with his address and a note.

“In case you want to do a pop by.”

Today was the first time their schedules had matched up. Or as close to matching up as they got these days. Matt arrived a little bit after one in the morning. That had given Arthur plenty of time to shower, eat and settle down with a cuppa and essentially give his voice a rest for a few hours.

At the sound of the key in the lock he found himself jumping off the couch and waiting eagerly for his friend to open the door. Matt didn’t look in the least bit surprised to see him standing there, so unabashedly eager. Arthur had given up on casual with his lover long ago. 

First he just brought him in for a hug. A real hug, where he simply wrapped his arms about him and held him as tightly as he could while burying his face against his neck.

“I like your hugs. It’s like having the life slowly squeezed out of you in the most affectionate way possible.” Matt joked but he didn’t move away. He never did. They always greeted one another like this, even before the relationship and the sex. The hugs had only gotten longer.

“Force of habit.” Arthur answered softly.

What followed was of course the pleasantries. 

Are you hungry, mate? 

No thanks.

Fancy a beer? 

No thanks. 

No. No, of course not. They’d missed each other far too much to waste time on non essentials like food and drink.

They only needed each other and just enough air to keep breathing.

Their conversation was broken up by kisses, the sound of a voice momentarily muffled by a shirt being hastily removed, gasps for breath as neglected flesh was finally caressed by hands that have been sorely missed.

“That accent.” Matt said.

Arthur chuckled. It was hard to shake the Dublin lilt even after the curtain went down.

“That hair.” He retorted. “Or rather what’s left of it.”

“You love it.” Came the reply.

And of course he was right.

“Jesus, Smith, this new body...” He trailed off as his fingers ghosted beneath the skin of his mates t-shirt finally leaving light scratch marks over his abs. “You keep this up you’re gonna give me a complex.”

“Still me.” He murmured softly against his neck. “Still your Matt.”

In what seemed like moments later they were naked and moments after that happily beneath the sheets of Arthur’s bed. Matt slinking lower, out of sight and eventually taking him in his mouth.

Arthur was a hair trigger tonight. It was always like that after they’d been so long apart. The first orgasm only took off the frantic edge, the second time he was always better.

“You quit smoking.” Matt said, his voice only slightly dampened by the blanket.

“Yeah..about three months ago.” he said trying to steady his voice as Matt licked him clean.

“You taste even better than normal. Sometimes I hated that awful, ashiness.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Arthur said through gritted teeth as another tremor moved through him.

He opened his arms to him and suddenly Matt was there the taste of both of them, unique and familiar on his tongue and then, as they kissed, on Arthur’s as well. 

“I missed you.” One of them said softly. He wasn’t even sure which. He knew they were both thinking it and that was more than enough.

“How’s the musical? I’m going to come round to see it, tomorrow or the day after.” His words were dispersed by kisses and Arthur’s hand reflexively slipped down to Mat’s arse.

“Good. Very good. How’s the movie?”

He picked the oddest times to decide he wanted to talk shop but it didn’t matter. They were both here, in each others arms. That was all that was important.

“Great.” Came the disinterested one word reply.

“Yeah, great.”

They burst into easy laughter before starting to snog again in earnest. 

When Matt eased inside him Arthur released a low moan. A sound usually reserved for a late night wank brought on by make-do memories and half remembered dreams of moments just like this one. But this was real. Matt full and hard inside him, whispering things in his ear that made his heart ache at their earnest sweetness. Things reserved for night time and the quiet safety of each other's arms.

Letting his hand glide up Matt’s neck he searched for the long, floppy tresses he was so accustomed to finding. It was a force of habit.

“I miss having a handful to grab.” He said before particularly well placed and timed thrust from Matt make him clap his mouth shut and whimper.

His lover gave a self satisfied little chuckle. “You’ll get over it.” He replied but his voice quavered . Both of their bravado faded when they were connected like that and all artifice bled away.

They moved together in an easy rhythm, clinging and kissing, trying to hold on for as long as possible until that moment when they burst apart as they came together.

Arthur pulled him against his chest and closed his eyes. He wasn’t tired just yet but after the “I love you’s” they fell into an easy, peaceful silence.

Matt drifted off and Arthur smiled at his easy, contented breathing. He wouldn’t have him for long, they were both too busy to lay around in bed for the day with each other as they so badly wanted. But now was what they had and now was good enough.

“Are you on Twitter right now, seriously?” Came the sleep thickened voice at his side.

“Hush...it’s only for a moment.”

“Uploading a couple seconds of us in bed to Vine?” he teased. “That’ll get a lot of hits.”

“Ha! You wouldn’t know about that if you didn’t look at my Twitter. Stalker.”

“Attention whore.”

“Do you know what they call you on Tumblr?”

“You look me up on Tumblr? Awww, you’re my biggest fan aren’t you, Big Nose?”

“No, I look me up on Tumblr because I’m vain.”

“What do they call me?” He asked with a yawn.

“A life ruiner.”

His eyes widened at that and Arthur read the confusion.

“Why?”

“Oh it’s meant affectionately enough. It just means they, for some strange reason, think you’re perfect but the fact that you’re unattainable ruins their lives. Hence, you, Matthew Robert Smith are a life ruiner. Funny, I found you quite attainable.”

Matt snorted with mock derision.

“I played hard to get.”

“Hard to get? Is that what you call coming to my flat in Cardiff with a bottle of wine so we could “Run lines”?”

“I’m a consummate professional.” 

“I’ve been fighting you off since Swimming With Sharks. I took pity on you, Smith.”

Without warning Matt suddenly snatched the phone from Arthur’s hand and tossed it across the room. It made a midair arc and landed with a gentle, flat, thunk.

“You are so lucky that fell into a pile of clothes, if you’d broken my phone-”

“You’d forgive me.” He said dismissively, curling his body into Arthur’s, shutting his eyes again. “And why must you check your phone at every bloody second. It’s so annoying.”

Arthur sighed. It wasn’t his nature to reveal quite so much, to anybody. But Matt had a way about him. He stripped him bare and the next thing Arthur knew he was saying the most ridiculous, saccharine, truthful things. And here he went again.

“I check it because...we text everyday. And you usually send me one last message before you go to bed. I like it to be the last thing I read before I turn off the light. So, even with you here, I find myself doing it. I guess it’s just a force of habit.”

Arthur waited but Matt was silent for a minute.

There was no friendly jab, no banter and he felt that panic creep over him that maybe he’d said too much.

But he hadn't.

Matt pushed himself up on his elbow and smiled softly pulling Arthur in for a kiss before they both lay back down in one anothers arms. 

After twenty or so minutes just as he felt himself on the cusp of sleep his phone started buzzing insistently. It wasn’t so much that he needed to check it but the noise wouldn’t help him get to sleep. matt, presumably having gone back to sleep had shifted in his position on the bed. He was facing away from him and they had been spooning in the most pleasant of ways.

Cursing in his head he disengaged slowly so as not to wake him and went in search of the pile of clothes his phone had landed upon. Picking it up he walked back to bed reading the text.

I see no reason to break with tradition. I love you, Arthur. Pleasant dreams. Now, get back in bed and put yours arms around me. 

Arthur broke into a smile and reached to put his phone on the nightstand...right next to Matt’s.

They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. Arthur put a strong arm around his waist and pulled the blankets over them both. the bed would feel empty tomorrow night. Lonelier. But what they had, what they had created and cultivated together was stronger than ever. They’d make plans and they’d make time for another. 

The truth was Arthur loved him. There was no helping it. There was stopping it. It was reflexive. It was automatic. It was inevitable. 

It was, after all this time, nothing short of a force of habit.


End file.
